Blossom Skies Legendary Kalon Comp Entry

[bostonlobstah]

For this

Username: Sugar Silkie~
Name: June Foster
Gender: female

Hi, welcome to my entry for this competition! I had a lot of fun developing this kalon so I hope you enjoy reading my work

All art and writing are by me.
The narrator for this entry is not an existing kalon, however I'm trading for a MYO soon so *eyes*

[bostonlobstah]

June 10th, 2006
"June? June!" I chimed, climbing up the stairs. "What are you doing?"
Silence. In my old ears, at least, I could hear nothing telling me that June was upstairs.
Maybe she was asleep. I tiptoed down the carpeted hall, as not to wake her. I reached the end of the hall and placed my hand on the warm brass knob to her white bedroom door. I opened the door a crack.
"Junie-bug? Are you awake?"
I glanced around the room, not knowing what to expect. The little pink bookcase was empty, its contents spilled out across the floor. Some were open as though June had been reading through them. Light from the mid-afternoon sunshine filtered through sheer white lace curtains, highlighting sad pink flower cuts that laid on the once-clean shag carpet (now covered in dirt). Blue kid's craft scissors and a cookie sheet full of sandy soil laid beside them. The cookie sheet had what appeared to be an attempt at gardening, as a thin flower stem jutted out and sagged with the weight of the blossom. I sighed, knowing what June had been doing an hour before. I moved towards her bed; a sweet menagerie of pink, blue and white sheets, quilts, pillows and stuffed animals. There lay June: Completely conked out, sprawling on her cool linen sheets. A single flower dangled from her loose hand.
"Junie-bug," I whispered gently, brushing sky-blue hair away from her face. "What did you do to your flowers? I thought you liked them."
June stirred, then slowly opened her vivid yet tired eyes. "Oh, I was just cutting them off," Junie stretched her body out as she pulled in her breath, squeezing her eyes tight. Her extended feet kicked me in the ribs. "Ouch!" I said quickly, which made her shake a little.
"It's okay," I smiled. June relaxed again and yawned. I was tempted to yawn myself.
"Junie, sweetheart. Don't you like flowers? Why did you cut them off?" I asked as nicely as I could, though I was a bit upset that she would do such a thing to her beautiful flowers.
"It was Miss Clements," June grunted groggily. "She--she said she liked flowers in little gardens more than wild flowers."
I was thoroughly confused by this statement. "What?"
"Well? It's almost the last day of preschool," said June matter-of-factly.
This still wasn't helping me much. "And?"
"I wanted to give a garden to my teacher, but I had no flowers..."
I was dumbfounded. "So you cut yours off?"
"Yeah, well...she said she didn't like wild flowers anyway..."
"Quoi, ma petite fleur sauvage?"
And then it clicked for me. I bursted out laughing, which somehow startled June. She looked at me, genuinely puzzled.
After regaining my composition, I smiled at June and pulled her close to me. Her head rested in my lap, her silky hair draped across my apron. "I'll tell you something, June. Me? I love Wild Flowers the best!"

[bostonlobstah]

November 23rd, 2009

I cracked an egg into my frying-pan and watched it bubble as though breathing and listened to the crackling and sizzling sounds of breakfast. I thought I heard something behind me, but when I turned around, June still wasn't there. Where was that girl? Up to something again?
I heard her footsteps and the fluttering sound of scattered papers as she sprinted down the stairs. She ran to her little wooden chair and planted herself down quickly. She held a stack of paper in her hands. She patted them on the table to straighten them out.
"What're those papers for, ma fleur savauge? I asked June, who appeared flustered as she grabbed stray papers.
I pulled one from her light grip and read over it.

FOR SALE:
100+ baby guppies. Many colors.
Must go now!
50c each or best offer.

A black and white printed photograph of June's fish, Arnoldo and Rosie, was at the bottom of the page.
"What on earth, Junie-bug? Did your fish have children?"
"I'm afraid so. I think they're eating each other alive!" June cried.
"One hundred? No wonder! Our tank's barely big enough for five!"
"I know! There's more than that. More like gazillions! That's why I'm selling them to the kids at my school."
I heaved a sigh. "How do you know the kids will be interested in your sale?"
"Well," June said, looking very serious and professional. "Ruby bought a ladybug I found in the house from me last year. Remember? And I sold her it for a whole dollar!"
I chuckled to myself a little. June cocked her head at me as though she didn't understand. "Why are you laughing?"
"You silly goose," I smiled at her. June slumped in her chair, her face a mixture of confusion, distress, and just thinking.
I flipped the scrambled eggs onto her plate with the spatula. She gave a half-hearted smile and kind of just poked at her eggs with her fork.
"You don't like them?" I said. I knew what she thought, but I was always trying to get more out of her. It's always good to talk to your kids about their feelings and thoughts, is what I always say.
June didn't say anything but pursed her lips together, clearly not willing to mention how disgusting my eggs were.
"They're rubbery, aren't they," I sighed.
June gave the tiniest nod. That was enough.
"Man, how do they make those hotel eggs! Those are always so delicious, am I right?"
June smiled a little bit more. I could sense her relief that I wasn't upset with her. But another glance at the guppy ads and June went back to thinking. I didn't want to bring up the guppies again, afraid to think that she would be teased because of it. I tried changing the subject.
"Would you like cereal instead? I need you to eat."
June nodded, her face brightening. "Yes please! Thanks, mom."
I went to the fridge and looked over the options. Whole milk, skim milk, 1%...Is June too young to need skim? Is it even healthier? Or is whole milk better? What article was that...was I fussing over this too much? Did it really matter how much fat was in my child's milk? I grabbed the 1% and the cereal box and brought it to the table. I was about to pour the cereal into the bowl when June yelled, "stop!"
"What is it!" I said a bit panicked. June doesn't yell very much nowadays. It must have been important.
"You're supposed to pour the milk in first," June said.
"No you're not," I retorted. Was that really all this was about?
“I know! I know! June said. “But it’s more fun! Don’t you like to watch the cereal just, you know, bloop?” her eyes were sparkling with laughter.
“Alright, fine,” I sighed. June’s face grew concerned and nervous suddenly. She’s a sensitive kid. She probably thought I was upset with her. I try not to be, not around her.
“It’s alright, June-bug,” I always have to say. “I’m not upset.” Then she goes back to her own innocent, wacky, perfect self.
I poured the cereal into the milk, watching it bloop-bloop-bloop. Some of the milk spattered onto my face. June glanced at me, unable to laugh until I cracked a smile. Then she began to giggle, until it turned into a loud chime, ringing like the silver bell on her tail. She was smiling from ear to pointed ear, a true expression of joy and love.
I think I will always pour the milk in first. Seeing her smile brings me so much joy.

[bostonlobstah]

January 14th, 2011

I was sitting at my computer when I heard the door open.
“I’m home!” The familiar voice of June rang through the house.
“Hi, Junebug! How was school?” I called.
“Good,” June sighed, dragging herself into the living room, and slumped into her favorite armchair. It was an ugly and faded green chair, but I guess it has sentimental value to her. It’s where we’d sit together when she was little and read bedtime stories by the fireplace. I dared not bring up the fact that I was considering throwing it away.
Something wasn’t right with June though. Her usually sparkling eyes were hollow and melancholy. And she lacked the energy to do anything wild today.
“Is something wrong, June?” I crossed the living room to sit beside her.
“N—no,” June stuttered. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes reddened.
“Something is wrong. Could you tell me what that is?”
“Oh—it’s...nothing...I just—I just wish I was like everyone else...”
“What are you talking about?”
June frowned. “Well...some kids came up to me today, and said some...mean stuff to me. Like there was stuff wrong with me. And then they laughed. So I smiled a little but they laughed harder. I just don’t understand what’s funny. I don’t understand what they mean...”
“Oh, honey...” I whispered, clutching strands of her silky hair. “There’s nothing wrong with you at all. Don’t you ever believe what they say. You’re perfect the way you are.”
She barely took my words to heart though, because later when I checked on her to say goodnight, I saw her flowers scattered across the floor, just like how they once were when she was very small. A pair of what appeared to possibly be handmade crocheted knee socks were also laying on the pink shag carpet.
“Sweetie? What are you up to?” I whispered quietly. But I knew she was feeling self conscious about her appearance. The poor girl was trying to hide the fact she looked different.
June didn’t say a word. Her eyes were dark and full of tears that reflected the dim light coming from her bedside lamp.
“June,” I murmured, kneeling beside her on the soft carpet. “You don’t have to try and fit in, you know.”
“Everyone tells me to stand out. To be a light. But standing out doesn’t ever get me anywhere. They laugh at me, mama...”
“Listen, June. I know something. They are jealous of you, of the way you are. They envy your sweet spirit and optimism. What they don’t know is by letting you down they are letting themselves down, too. They need you! I hope you can understand that.”
“They don’t need me, mama...” June murmured. “They want to humiliate me. They want me to go away.”
“Then you don’t let them get what they want,” I smiled a little, hoping that one of the things that I said would make some sense to her. “Letting go and being yourself will be the best way to find happiness.”
I didn't know what else to say to her. I remembered being in that same situation, years ago, when I was just a girl like her. The schoolchildren had teased me on all levels: They thought I was ugly, they thought I was stupid, they thought I was worth nothing. It wasn't until June came into my life suddenly when I realized that she idolized me in every way. She said I looked beautiful every time I went out on a date. She told me I was so smart every time I showed her one of my old cooking hacks (still haven't mastered those eggs, though). And she never even needed to tell me how much I meant to her. I know that without me, she would have led a very different life, for better or for worse. June made me feel like myself again.
"I'll try," June murmured, wiping away a tear. She paused, then sniffed. "It's going to be hard, isn't it."
"Yes, it will be hard at first, but you'll find it to be easy to let your own little inner fire shine through." I wrapped my arms around her. "I know you can do it, June. Just trust yourself. I trust you, too."
"Thanks, mama," June sighed, leaning into me. "I love you."
"I love you more than you know."

[bostonlobstah]

Here she is. My baby, standing in front of me in her graduation uniform.
I don't know why it seems like a miracle to me, but that's what it feels like. It's a miracle that she used to be so small and so shy and tentative, and now she has the bravery to do whatever she wants to do. Something I knew she had in her all along, something that just needed to come out of her.
She looks at me, her eyes misty but her face radiating happiness.
“I don’t want you to leave me yet,” I whisper, stepping closer to her. "I don't want my June-Bug to go away..."
"Don't worry! I won't be too far away." June murmurs into my ear and smiles warmly. She, of all people, knows what it's like to be lonely.
My girl taught me so much, and I don't know how I'll live without her so close to my side every day. From the day she poured weed killer all over herself to the day she recited a beautiful french poem she had written for me, she gave me something to look forward to the next day. With June, every day is a surprise. Sometimes sad or scary or dangerous surprises, but mostly the kind that make you smile and laugh and think, maybe today was worth it after all.
Ever since she was very small, I called her my Fleur Sauvage. "Wild Flower" in French. French had become out love language over the years. Neither of us had any previous connection to the language whatsoever, but we always loved how beautiful it sounded compared to other languages.
"Saying 'I love you' in French," June had once said, "Has a better connotation than saying it in German. 'ICH LIBE DICH!!!'"
I remember falling back on my bed just laughing my head off when June had screamed German into my face. I remember being pleasantly surprised at her bold move without apologizing or even flinching afterwards.
She used to be so unsure of herself: Constantly seeking my approval, never going outside her comfort zone (albeit an oddly-shaped one), and always afraid that her actions would hurt others' feelings. As she grew, she learned that the things that she did weren't upsetting to people. She could let go a little. I guess years of me telling her it's okay, it's okay, it's okay...
"It's okay, it's okay..." I feel June's arms wrapping around me and I realize that there are tears dripping from my eyes.
June rarely ever saw me cry. It would make her upset. But when I look up at her I see that she's happy. She knows she is about to embark on a new adventure without me, but she isn't afraid. She's excited. She knows she is ready for the world, and that she can make a difference in her own special way.
I'm so proud of her for that.

--------------

It's only been a few days June has been away, but I feel like she's been gone for an eternity. I miss her so much. Sitting in her now empty bedroom brings me so many memories of her lace curtains, her shag carpet, her butterfly nightlights...all of them are long gone now, but they keep coming back to my mind. I can't bear to think that I threw those parts of her childhood away. They are a part of her that's never going to leave my memory, no matter how hard I try to expel them...
I can't stand to be in her room anymore. I get up from her bare mattress and trudge back downstairs. What I need is to get my feelings out of me, like I used to. It brought me so much comfort, to tell my deepest fears, desires and regrets to someone, without telling them to anyone at all. I need to write in my journal again.
I open the drawers of my desk one by one. In one drawer, carefully placed on top of a stack of unimportant papers, lies a journal that smells old but looks brand new. Not the one I'm looking for, but when I skim through it has mostly blank pages. A perfect journal to pour my thoughts and feelings into.
I flip to the first page. I'm surprised to see a short journal entry inside of it. It's my own handwriting, written a very long time ago. I am curious. I begin to read.

[bostonlobstah]

June 26th, 2001

I held my baby in my arms for the first time today. She's beautiful, she's perfect. And only God knows where she came from.
What would her life be like if Fate put her into other paws? Perhaps she would live the life of a rich girl, or perhaps a princess, or even a goddess. I can't say if any of those lives would be better than the one I'm about to give her.
So maybe I'm not an upper-class kalon. So maybe I'm not able to give her another parent to love her, or any siblings to play with. But what I can give her is all of my love. I will love her like my own daughter, and I will sacrifice my time and effort for her, because that is how much she means to me.
I'm nervous, but also excited and hopeful for the future we'll have together. I hope I can make her proud of who she is.





Dear Mama,

I just wanted to tell you how important you were--and are--in my life. I would have never been able to make any of my friends if it weren't for you. And I never would have decided to go to college. And most importantly, I never would have loved myself for who I am, and showed to the world my potential and my kind spirit.
I know you're unsure about whether you think this life was best for me. But I can assure you, I would have never asked for anyone else to be my Mama.
I love you and I'll see you in December!

xoxo Fleur Sauvage